


Of Gods and Monsters

by koviekay



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Original Work
Genre: Death, F/F, F/M, Female/Female relationships, Female/Male Relationships, Flowers, Gen, Gods, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Life - Freeform, M/M, Modern Setting Retelling of Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Monsters, Moon, Mount Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Twelve Gods of Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Underworld, dead, flower shop, male/male relationships, sun - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:34:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29546604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koviekay/pseuds/koviekay
Summary: In which a girl finds herself in the Realm of the Gods."She asked him, once, what the difference between gods and monsters was. At the time, his answer was simple: gods are good, and monsters are not. Of course, he considered himself a god. She would too, over time.Her face was stained with tears, eyes red and puffy. Her arms, wrapped around, shook slightly, as though she were still crying. She wasn't, though. The sound of her sobs had long since evaporated, leaving behind a deafening silence. She was shaking with anger. She lifted her face slightly, meeting his gaze.Her eyes, normally a soft cloudy gray, looked like steel. There was a determination in them that he had never seen before. She wanted him dead, and would do whatever it took to kill him.That was a look reserved for monsters."
Kudos: 1





	Of Gods and Monsters

The flower shop stood between two buildings, each so tall they seemed to touch the stars themselves. The shop itself, though, stood only a few feet taller than Faye’s five feet. Had she been anyone else, a newcomer, she would have thought it odd; the cozy little establishment looked nothing like the other, harsher buildings on the street. It probably would not have been incorrect to say that the flower shop looked nothing like any other building in the city.

She did not think the round shape of the building was odd, of course. Nor did she think the wooden sign, hung perpendicular to the entrance, was outdated. This was her shop, obviously, and she had perfectly and painstakingly selected each and every aspect of it to look like it was transported directly from a book of fairy tales. She always did despise the modern look.

Faye threw the door open - she was coming home, it was the perfect time for a dramatic entrance - and was immediately taken aback by the heavy, slimy scent of dead things. 

During her week-long absence, the shop had been entrusted to her good friend Cally, with specific instructions to not overwater the plants. A watering schedule had even been left on the counter, laminated!

Faye darted around the shop to examine the damages. Crispy yellow leaves dotted the floor, which of course Cally couldn’t have been bothered to at least sweep up, and Faye was sure she could even see the beginnings of root rot amongst the limp plants. How was this even possible in a single week?

Luckily (for both the plants and Cally) the special order flowers were untouched. Each pot had been hand painted with a variety of different scenes. Her favorite was a dark maroon pomegranate; she’d spent hours on it, hunched over her desk, getting colors everywhere. In it, was a bright yellow daffodil. It was an order for Gloria, her mother. Well, not exactly her mother, but the closest thing Faye had ever had to one.

For months, Cally had been begging Faye to expand her flower shop to include a bookstore as well. At first, Faye had been fully against the idea - she’d have to get new signs to advertise books, and the old-timey signs she’d already bought for the flowers were already expensive enough - but eventually Cally’s round, pleading eyes had won her over.

It seemed as though the first shipment of books had arrived, as the floor was scattered with cardboard boxes as well as wilted leaves. Cally’s wild hair was barely visible over the boxes, sitting cross-legged behind a particularly large stack.

Faye rolled her eyes. It wasn’t hard to guess what had happened; the books had arrived towards the beginning of her trip, and, as Faye had specifically ordered the next few books in Cally’s latest series, her friend had probably been reading as she’d watered the plants.

“Cally,” Faye sighed, peering at her friend over the stack of books. “How did you manage to completely ruin the plants in just a week?”  
The curly-haired girl waved a hand at Faye, barely listening. “Oh, please, you got a new shipment of, like, everything. It’ll be fine!” Her voice came out all in one breath. Cally didn’t even bother to tear her eyes away from the page. One would think she’d be happy to see her best friend after a whole week without her, but Cally was too invested in her brand new vampire novel, it seemed.

Faye briefly considered becoming angry at the blonde, but ultimately decided against it. She was right; Faye had just received a brand new shipment of all the plants she’d had in stock, and had brought in enough profit from last month that tossing a few wouldn’t matter much. 

What would matter, though, was cleaning.

Of course, Cally would be no help. She was sprawled out across the hardwood floor, so engrossed in her reading that Faye fully believed that Cally would not notice if she dropped dead.

Grabbing a broom, Faye began to sweep the leaves off of the floor. It didn’t take her long; Faye had devoted her life (what she could remember of it, at least) to this shop. She was very well-versed in cleaning up after her plants. After the sweeping came the dusting. Cally was kind enough to offer a soundtrack of sniffles as Faye dusted. The vampire had been gravely injured, evidently.

A few hours passed as Faye cleaned and reset her shop. The orange sunlight, specific to sunset, softly streamed through the window. It was Faye’s favorite time of day; time to reset and relax. Cally had left a while ago, after finishing her book, and the two planned to get dinner at Faye’s favorite restaurant to welcome her back. 

Placing the last newly potted plant in the window display, she stepped back to admire her work. Plants of all shapes and colors dotted the windowsill. Faye was confident that her customers would appreciate it. She was lucky enough to have ended up in a town that appreciated nature and flowers just as much as she did, although most of her patrons claimed that it was her “magic” way with plants that made them so fond. Faye was convinced that they were just after some discounts (which of course she gave to them without hesitation).

A ding on her phone signalled that it was time to leave for the restaurant. She would have to run the special order after dinner, unfortunately, but she didn’t think Gloria would mind. Faye could not remember a time where the woman had been on time; it was more than likely that she was expecting Faye to be late.

Her heels tapped along the floor as she exited. Luckily for her, the restaurant was just down the street; she wouldn’t have to drive. It was one of the many reasons she loved the restaurant, although the main had to be the wonderful spring salad they offered.

Cally had arrived early, and it seemed she’d already ordered a round or two of drinks. For herself, of course. Faye didn’t drink, but the margarita glasses littered around her table cemented the fact that Cally did.

“Faye!” Her friend chirped, not even close to slurring. Faye had never asked how Cally had built up her alcohol tolerance, and she never would.

With a smile, Faye took her seat at the table across from Cally. Soft, classical music mingled with the smell of all different types of food in the air. Cally had remembered to order an iced tea for Faye, and she took a small sip, the cool liquid sliding down her throat.

“Why do you like this restaurant so much, again?” Her friend met her eyes, twisting her straw through her fingers.

Faye chuckled. Cally asked this question every time they met here. and the answer was always the same. “It’s the first place Gloria took me to eat after taking me in.”

Cally leaned back in her seat, a soft smile on her face. “Yeah, I never got that either. Some rando teenage girl covered in blood shows up in your front yard in the middle of the night and the first thing you do is let her into your house. It’s crazy how that woman didn’t get, like, murdered or something.”

It was a wonder that Cally still spoke like a tenth grader at her age, but Faye was too shy to comment on that.

Cally’s eyes widened, realizing that she’d hit upon a sore subject. “Oh, dang, sorry! I probably shouldn’t mention that, right? Oh, you’re fine. Anyways, tell me the story of how you got here again!”

Faye took another sip of her tea. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to rehashing the memory, especially since Cally already knew the story quite well. “You got most of it. I showed up in her lawn, covered in blood. She let me in, let me shower, and the first place that we went afterwards was here.” At the sight of Cally’s open mouth and questioning eyes, Faye held up a finger. “And before you ask, no. I have no idea how I got there or whose blood it was. I don’t even have any memories from before that day.”

Her tone was harsh, and Cally averted her eyes, shutting her mouth. Faye immediately regretted her brashness with Cally. She knew how it sounded; a teenage girl appearing in a brand new town, covered in blood, no memories. It seemed like she was running from something. Faye wished, more than anything, she could claim that she was running from something, but she just didn’t remember.

“Well, why don’t you tell me some fun stories about Gloria?” Cally’s tone was light and airy, but her eyes were still planted on the floor. Faye wondered if she should ask what was on the floor, or maybe make a joke about it to lighten the mood. Nothing came to mind, unfortunately, so she launched into her favorite story with Gloria, one of the only ones that Cally had never heard before..

“This was when I’d already been here for about a year, so I was still living with Gloria. I was… eighteen maybe? Nineteen? Anyways, Gloria and I were buying groceries,” Faye paused, the memory of the warm spring day embedded in her mind. “We were in the tea aisle. I’d grabbed my favorite brand of chamomile tea from the shelf when she stopped me.”

Cally leaned forward in her seat, placing her chin in her hands. She was expecting a great, dramatic story, but she would be disappointed. “Don’t stop there! Why wouldn’t she let you get the tea?”

“She’d planted chamomile a while ago, when she first learned it was my favorite. We didn’t need it.”

Cally threw up her hands, groaning. “Come on, Faye. That’s the worst story I’ve ever heard! Where’s the drama? The suspense? The romance?” She crossed her arms in mock anger, repressing the urge to laugh.

Faye simply smiled in response. It was, indeed, a boring story, but that’s what made it one of Faye’s favorites. It took a while for plants to grow; Gloria had expected her to stay, wanted her to stay, at least until the chamomile was ready. She’d made Faye feel like she had a home. Whereas most of the town was weary of her, Gloria had welcomed her with open arms. Her garden was the most important thing in the world to Gloria; she’d made space for Faye’s tea the same way she’d made space for Faye in her life.

Moreover, it was the best damn chamomile tea she’d ever tasted.

The girls stayed in the restaurant for a while later, swapping small stories and laughter over their food and drinks. After a while, Faye realized she still had to run the daffodil to Gloria.

It was nearly ten when Faye left the restaurant, but there was no way that Gloria was asleep. Despite her old age, Gloria still lived like she was a teenager. She’d claimed her mental age was much, much younger than her physical age.

She reached the shop, grabbing the plant, and left as quickly as she’d arrived. It was a quick walk to her mother’s home, and the town was very safe, even at night.

Faye was surprised to find her hands twitching in excitement. It had been a while since she’d seen the older woman, and she was looking forward to hearing one of her eccentric tales, told in a comforting southern accent. 

Gloria had a rare way with words, her voice so calming and comforting that it drew you in wouldn’t set you free until she was done talking, had you hanging on the edge of the seat and comforted at the same time. She had a soft, youthful voice, which often made people forget her old age, Faye included.

Which is why Faye was so surprised to find Gloria dead in her bedroom.


End file.
